


no beginning and no end

by Nadin



Category: Wonder Woman (2017), Wonder Woman - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Wondertrev Week 2018, ww84 universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-21 22:11:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15567429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nadin/pseuds/Nadin
Summary: Wondertrev Love Week 2018Day 1 - WW84Steve is alive and the future is confusing, but at least he doesn’t have to navigate it alone





	no beginning and no end

**Author's Note:**

> Since we don't know how exactly Steve is coming back and the possibilities are too endless, I chose to leave it open. Just in case because my head is already exploding.

Steve sleeps.

He has never felt more drained. Somehow, the trenches and the horrors of the war that seem so fresh in his mind but that has ended over 60 years ago for everyone else feel blurred and almost surreal, his new reality consuming him.

The world is different.

More different than he could ever have imagined. Not even if he tried, and he never has to begin with. The cars are faster, the people bolder, the motion pictures that they call movies now are shown in vivid detail and bright colours. He is scared by the enormity of everything he doesn’t understand, and each moment he can’t help but think that his head might explode. He wonders how long it will take him to catch up, to understand how things work, how people live now.

This must be how Diana felt about man’s world when Steve brought her to London with him, back in 1918. How confused she was by the clothes he made her wear and how she was supposed to act. Back then, he foolishly compared her experience to his own on Themyscira – a place so different from everywhere he has ever been. But it has never been thus. Compared to hers, his world has always been overwhelming. And now the tables have turned and she belongs here while he doesn’t, and there is nothing Steve can do about it.

He is back from the dead, and he doesn’t know how. He suspects that Diana has some answers but she hasn’t said anything yet and he doesn’t know how to ask. Every time his gaze finds hers, he forgets how to breathe. For her, it has been decades, but for him, it has only been five days. Five days since she crossed the No Man’s Land. Four since he woke up in Veld to the cold morning light streaming through cheap curtains on a small window, his body wrapped around hers like a shell. Three since he came back.

Steve sleeps because thinking about things he doesn’t understand is more exhausting than surviving the war that back in the day seemed to have had no end. It ended, though. He knows it now. And he knows how, too. It was the second… no, the third question he has asked her a few days ago when he was almost knocked to the ground by an Amazon goddess, his arms catching her and breaking their fall, but only barely.

 _Am I dreaming?_ was the first one. She shook her head, smiling through tears and a sob rising in her throat. _You’re not going to disappear, are you?_ followed, to which she said nothing, only pressed her forehead to his, palms cupped over his cheeks.

He doesn’t remember death but he likes feeling alive. Likes the spring outside the window of her apartment and the sounds of traffic and people on the street. None of this makes him any less confused – everything has advanced like in those sci-fi novels that he liked to read as a kid – and half the time he is completely lost.

Diana makes it better. She is his anchor and his guide like he was her all those years ago. She is patient and kind, and she is always the first one to reach for his hand wherever they go. Ever observant, it is one of the first few things that he has noticed – she likes physical contact. He has never been more grateful.

Steve knows the truth now, too. That Ares was real and that she is the daughter of Zeus and that he is in love with a goddess. It’s a lot to process but they have time now. She tells him that they have all the time in the world and he believes her.  

He awakes to the bright sunlight flooding the room, disoriented momentarily. After a couple of years of sleeping on the cold ground, or flat, lumpy mattresses, Diana’s bed feels like heaven. Come to think about it, everything in the future feels like heaven. Half the time, Steve can’t help but wonder if this is all a dream that is going to disappear before his eyes. A part of him is used to waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Steve blinks sleepily and runs his hand over his face, chasing away the fogginess.

The first night Diana brought him here, their hands laden with bags full of clothes and shoes and accessories that she has picked up for him, he collapsed before he even had a chance to ask about their sleeping arrangements, realizing somewhat belatedly that maybe his presence wasn’t appropriate and not wanting to assume anything. It’s been a long time. He would have understood if she has long moved on.  

However, a few hours later, he woke up in the dark in Diana’s bed, his arms wrapped around her body as she breathed slowly and deeply, a quilt draped over them. She stirred but never woke up when he pulled her closer, burying his face in her hair and breathing in her sweet scent until exhaustion caught up with him again, pulling him into a deep slumber.

But that was two nights ago, and everything is different now.

It is morning. A late one, if the brightness of the sun is any indication. Diana’s apartment, he has noticed, is light and airy, with the windows overlooking the park. Steve reaches across the bed, but the spot beside him is empty, the sheets cold.

A surge of panic jolts through him and he reminds himself to breathe. You can take a soldier out of the war but you can’t take the war out of a soldier. He is not used to peace.  

He turns around and his heart skips a beat, but for a different reason now.

Diana is standing in the doorway, arms folded over her chest and her shoulder propped against the door frame, watching him with fondness. His mouth goes dry. In the morning sunlight, she looks every inch a goddess that she is, but it is not that. Steve is a simple man—well, he is _just_ a man, period, and currently, Diana is wearing one of his shirts and nothing else. He does not mind it. Not in the slightest.

“Good morning,” she smiles when she catches him looking.

“Morning,” Steve rasps, his voice thick with sleep. Mostly.

His gaze dips down her body, trailing over her legs. Same legs that were wrapped—

He pushes the mental image away. He can’t think about that when she is all the way across the room. Doesn’t mean that he can’t enjoy the view, though. So he stares blatantly and unashamedly, feeling a grin tug at the corners of his mouth. She is beautiful. So beautiful he can barely stand it, and last night he has told her that, multiple times. It is perhaps no surprise that despite the late hour he still feels groggy, his body sore.

“What time is it?” Steve asks because he needs to focus on something that isn’t her legs. Which is hard.

He knows that she is aware of how he feels, enjoying it, by the looks of it.

“A little past 10,” Diana answers.

She pushes away from the door and crosses the room, lowering down to sit on the side of the bed next to him. The mattress dips under the weight of her body. Steve scoots closer, his thigh touching hers.

“Hi,” he breathes, smiling.

“Hi,” she echoes softly, the sunlight tangled in her hair making her look ethereal.

She reaches to run her fingers through his hair, her eyes roaming over his features. She seems to like what she sees, if tenderness in her eyes is any indication. Her palm rests on his cheek and Steve can’t resist leaning into her touch. He kisses the palm of her hand, watching her. Can never get enough of looking at her.

“Are you hungry? Diana asks after a moment.

 _Yes_ , he thinks. His eyes moving over her body again. It’s hard to think straight when she is so close and the memories of the night before are so fresh in his mind, making his blood run hot in his veins.

His mind drifts back to a desperate urgency with which they came together in Veld when every moment was precious, their time together running out with the first rays of the sun. Of the things he wanted to tell her but never got a chance to. Last night was different. There was no fight waiting for them on the other side, no crisis or emergency or disaster. There was only time stretching before them, flowing like liquid, and the silence punctuated with a breathless whisper.

They took their time, discovering and exploring, starting anew in this time and place.

Afterwards, lying in the circle of his arms, Diana traced the lines of his face with her fingers, as if memorizing him with her touch, her gaze full of wonder.

“I don’t know how to do this,” Steve confessed quietly. “The future.”

“You won’t have to do it alone,” she said simply, without hesitation. And then she kissed him again. And they didn’t speak again for a while.

Steve has always perceived peace as lack of war and absence of fighting, but it isn’t only that, he begins to realize. Peace is freedom. Freedom to go where he wants to go and do what he wants to do. Freedom to make love to the woman he is crazy about and make promises that he knows he can keep, and fall asleep in her arms, sated and happy.

“Steve?”

He blinks. Diana is watching him, and he realizes that he has been quiet for a while.

She has asked him a question… He nods.

“We should go get breakfast,” she says, smoothing his hair down again.

For a moment, Steve is confused, but she is waiting, an eyebrow raised, and he reminds himself to focus. He nods once more.

Breakfast. Right.

“Sounds good.”

Diana’s rifles through her wardrobe while he looks for suitable clothes in a pile still sitting on the dresser. She has freed some space for his new belongings but he is yet to put them away. It doesn’t matter. It’s such a small thing that Steve doesn’t care much for it. Not with everything else that’s happening in his life.

The dressing is a weird task.

Two days ago, he stood in the dressing room with a pile of things that made no sense to him, certain that he would look like a clown if he dared to leave the store wearing any of them. On the other side of the curtain, Diana waited patiently, assuring him that yes, this is what everyone was wearing now. And maybe he needed some help? The answer to that was a big fat yes, but he didn’t say it out loud.

Steve is not sure what is appropriate for a Saturday breakfast. It sounds fancy, and it has been a while since he was in a habit of going out, but Diana promises to him that it is not. He picks a pair of pants and a t-shirt, adds a light jacket to it, hoping that he has made the right choice. He wonders how long it is going to feel so foreign and out of place.

Having put on a pair of slacks and a plain blouse, Diana walks over to him. She reaches for him and smooths her palms over the collar of his jacket. Steve watches her take him in.

“You look good,” she said softly. Her voice is wistful. He is trying not to think of all the time she has spent here alone, confused and uncertain at first, and lonely when the initial shock wore off.

“You look odd,” he responds with a small smile, trying to break the tension. “A woman in pants. Etta would have been thrilled.”

Her smile stretches wider. “You will get used to it,” she promises.

Steve tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “You look good, too. Odd, but good.”

She slips her hand into his and twines their fingers. “Ready?”

 _As I’ll ever be_ , Steve thinks. He nods, and she leads him into the bright morning.

There is a café down the road that she prefers to several others scattered all over the area. The air is fresh and the sun is bright but they choose to sit outside on the patio anyway. He likes the sounds of life all around them, the voices not hushed by concern.

Diana helps him navigate the confusing menu – his most recent diet consisted of the things meant to keep him nourished, not something anyone was meant to enjoy. Steve stares at the selection of food listed before him and thinks that he has never seen anything of the kind before. The past two days, they opted for cooking something simple in her kitchen, and he wonders now if she chose to do it as to avoid overwhelming him. If that is true, Steve can see her point.

“How many types of omelet can there be?” He mutters under his breath, baffled.

Diana glances at him over her own menu, smiling. “People like variety.”

“People are crazy,” he grumbles as his gaze slides to the listed selection of coffee.

She smirks.

She chooses something that she thinks he might like and places their orders when the server appears. There are free newspapers on the table by the entrance and she picks one. Newspapers and breakfasts. Steve stares at it for a long moment before the memory flares up in his mind. He doesn’t care about the news or current events, not yet. This is still too much as it is. Panic churns inside of him, making him feel like he is on a deadline. Like he is supposed to catch up with 60 years of history as fast as he possibly can before his time has run out and he has to remind himself that it is not going to.

They have time now. They have as much time as they need.

Ignoring the other patrons and the commotion of a Saturday morning all around them, Steve reaches across the table and takes Diana’s hand. She squeezes his fingers.

“I missed you,” Steve says, which is a ridiculous thing to say, if he is being honest. Unlike her, he has not spent decades mulling over what-ifs and lost chances and the loneliness that he sees in her eyes when she thinks he is not looking.

She works as an Antiques Consultant at the Smithsonian. And she is saving the world – has never given up on that. He is stupidly, impossibly proud of her. So proud it makes his chest feel tight and full all at once. But he knows that it has never been simple. That she has faced injustice and aggression and discrimination and probably a lot of other things. A fierce sense of protection sparks inside of him. She doesn’t need it, he tells himself. But it doesn’t matter. He can’t help but want to shield her from the world.

“I missed you more,” Diana whispers, somehow understanding what he is talking about.

Steve doesn’t argue.

They eat and talk and then talk some more. He has so many questions that his head feels like it might explode. She is patient and kind with him, and Steve is eternally grateful. He skirts around the matter of his return and files it for later. He tells her that he loves her when he thinks that no one can hear, not because he is ashamed or embarrassed by it but because those words are meant only for her.

The morning blends into the afternoon that stretches into warm evening. They walk the streets of the city that Steve has only visited once. It is almost unrecognizable now. He stares at the bright clothes of the passers-by and bold storefronts. There is lightness in the air that he has long forgotten. It calms something deep inside of him. By the time he met Diana, back in 1918, his hope was hanging by a thread after the war had chipped away from it bit by bit with every day spent witnessing violence and destruction.

The peace around him now is almost overwhelming. He allows himself to breathe deeper, inhaling the scent of damp soil and fresh grass and faint sweetness of the cherry blossoms in the distance. It’s always been about the small things in life, Steve thinks with some wistfulness. He needs to learn to appreciate them again.

There is a lot for him to learn but he isn’t alone, and he finds solace in that thought.

“Were you happy?” He asks Diana at some point. It will take him a while to shake off the guilt of leaving her behind, however unintentionally.

“I was not unhappy,” she responds, which is not an answer and he tries to figure out the right way to ask the question again.

They are in a park, strolling idly toward the fountain up ahead. Earlier, she has asked him where he wanted to go. Steve said that it didn’t matter, as long as they were together, so she took him here. He is glad, it’s a lovely place, even if his mind feels too crowded to see it for what it truly is.

She stops and he does too, turning to her. There is no space between them and he likes it. He likes having her close.

“But I missed you,” she says, reaching for his face. Her palm covers his cheek, thumb running gently over his five o’clock stubble. Steve leans closer to her until their faces are almost touching. “Every day.”

“I’m sorry,” he breathes.

They have time. He doesn’t know how much. No one does, perhaps. It doesn’t feel like enough, not decades and not centuries, but it will have to be.

“It’s good to be back,” he adds and she smiles.

“It’s good to have you back,” she tells him softly, her voice dropping as though they were sharing a secret.

Steve waits, almost certain that she is going to dissipate before his eyes. A moment passes, and then another one. Everything feels too good to be real. He doesn’t care.

He leans down and kisses her.

**Author's Note:**

> I just want them to be happy, uuuugh


End file.
